soul of cinder face

It hit him dead-on, with the audience looking away, not wanting to see their prince reduced to a pile of melted bones, but though steam and smoke filled the air around Seraph, he was unharmed, albeit soaked. His aura had protected him, undoing the magic enhancement on the water, so when it hit him, it was chemically inert. The moment the blast ended, Seraph dropped his defenses, gasping for air from fatigue. What he would give to be even half as powerful as he was a year ago. He didn’t have time to rest, as Phune immediately commenced another attack. A continuous jet of water slammed against his raised palms and clashed with the light aura before him. Every loose drop hitting the ground smoked from the acidic burn, a reminder of what would happen if his strength or focus faltered for even a second.

The four walked to the Knight’s Sheath, where the late afternoon rush was starting to boil. As soon as they arrived, Cyrilo snatched up Sophia. “Sophia, there you are! Be a dear and go up to Room 7. One of our customers had a little accident while trying to perform a Flying Sock Puppet and needs your attention.”

Sure that the replica headband was safe, he took a deep breath and put it on. The second the knot was tied, his whole body spasmed and became rigid, leaving him unable to move, as if he were awake during surgery. It was a strange sensation, like every muscle had a weight attached. Fortunately, his heart and lungs seemed unencumbered, so he wasn’t in danger, and he could also still speak, probably so that the user could call for help since they likely wouldn’t be able to remove the headband on their own, but no matter how much he pushed or pulled, he could not resist the invisible binds. Saimallah said that the wearer could only move by keeping their mana energized and flowing at full capacity, so that’s what Noah focused on.